


your hushed farewell

by mydearsilhouette



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, M/M, alternate universe – videographer gyu x painter hao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydearsilhouette/pseuds/mydearsilhouette
Summary: This is just a temporary hideout, Minghao thinks to himself as a bird glides across his window in the coral-orange sky. Until I don’t give a shit about what happened with Mingyu anymore and figure out what to do next with life.A part of him stubbornly claims that he has already gotten over Mr. Kim Douche Mingyu, yet he knows well it’s not entirely true. To be exact, it is not true at all.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65
Collections: The Gyuhao Exhibit 2020: Snap Shoot





	1. the night that we parted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Klavier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klavier/gifts).



> Thank you Klavier for your god tier writing (anyone who hasn't read give me a tempest, go read it, it's so good it makes you cry)! It reignited my passion for creating fanfics–I almost forgot how good it felt making characters come to life in my writing. I love you and I will always support you!

_Recommended bgm: Tired - NIve_

↣ ⧪ ↢

Minghao wraps his fingers around the mug. It’s not his favorite one – the wall of this one is too thick so he can’t quite feel the heat of the earl gray inside. Though he rarely compromises on details of life like this, he doesn’t complain this time. He takes a small sip, then rises to fetch milk from the fridge. He could do a little protein right now, as he was too lazy to make himself lunch before he fell asleep, and now is too late for lunch. He might as well just fill his empty stomach up with some warm milk tea before his dinner arrives in delivery. 

He returns with the cup of earl-gray-turned-into-milk-tea to the dining table, where nothing but a small and simple white vase is placed. Minghao has plucked a stray dandelion and a few fresh green leaves to put in it this morning when he went out for a short walk. 

He stares aimlessly out of the window. His apartment isn’t too high – it’s on the fifth floor, so he could get a pretty decent view when the air quality of the city is tolerable. But he isn’t entirely satisfied: yes the street that he directly faces isn’t loud and the kids who pass by are usually lovable, but there isn’t a balcony for him to observe these people more closely. And he wishes there were more greens in the neighborhood – he feels suffocated sometimes, living in a cement forest like Seoul, and he misses being able to see fields of green just by his house back in China. 

But he will not complain. After all, he only found this place overnight and will not stay here for too long. 

_This is just a temporary hideout,_ he thinks to himself as a bird glides across his window in the coral-orange sky. _Until I don’t give a shit about what happened with Mingyu anymore and figure out what to do next with life._

A part of him stubbornly claims that he has already gotten over _Mr. Kim Douche Mingyu_ , yet he knows well it’s not entirely true. To be exact, it is not true at all. 

It has been three weeks since they have broken up, Minghao still wakes up every day finding it odd that he doesn’t have to fight someone in the middle of the night for space on the bed, feeling his chest hollow when he sees the only set of toiletries by the sink, and hating his pettiness when his nose gets sore as he chews a microwaved egg sandwich for breakfast. He scolds himself every time for lingering onto these thoughts and missing the old days, but he becomes defenseless at nights – especially thundering, rainy nights – and surrenders to what he knows would only hurt him more. 

But he doesn’t cry. That’s his bottom line. He allows himself to have vulnerable moments at those nights, but he doesn’t let himself to be _that_ weak. Even when no one is watching. Minghao refuses to be the type to cry over men after a breakup.

He does recall moments of the past once every often, though, trying to figure out when things started to go downhill between him and Mingyu. 

Their relationship had started off great. Everyone who knows them both thinks they are a perfect match for each other, and they believed so. Their overlapping hobbies and complementary personalities cleared most obstacles that new couples usually run into. Yes, they do fight sometimes, but none of the arguments were a big deal. It was always something like Mingyu forgetting to water the plants when Minghao was away for an art conference so Minghao’s favorite red aglaonema died, the pot of which Mingyu tried to hide badly so that Minghao wouldn’t notice but he did notice, or Minghao letting his inspiration run a little too freely and getting paint on the Kashmir rug that Mingyu had brought back from India, which he attempted to wash but only got the paint to bleed into a larger stain. 

These arguments always ended simply by one of them breaking the ice and apologizing to the other. Fortunately, both of them are loving and forgiving human beings so unpleasantness never survived more than three days in their presence. You could almost say that their love life was smooth sailing, and everyone was jealous of their relationship. 

Recalling the sweet memories has gotten Minghao to feel uneasy. He can sense his fingers tapping away on the handle of the mug, and the milk tea is almost gone. So he stops. Sunset-watching for that long – he doesn’t know exactly how long since he hasn’t been keeping track of time – is making him more drowsy than he has wanted to be anyway, so he puts away the mug and sits in front of his laptop. 

Minghao had left his phone at Mingyu’s, or what had been _their_ , apartment the day they broke up so that Mingyu can’t spam him over text or call him every three minutes when he doesn’t pick up. He knows it was probably really mean and childish, and he feels deeply sorry for all of his friends who had lost contact with him all of a sudden because of this stupid reason, but he couldn’t think of a better way to avoid being tracked by Mingyu. After all of these years being together, they shared too many friends, and Minghao couldn’t risk being confronted by Mingyu face-to-face about why he had left without a proper goodbye, not even a note. He dislikes that about Mingyu – being overly formalistic. 

He figured he could bear the life without any visitors for a few months until he can get through a normal day without feeling down all of a sudden for no reason (in other words, when Mingyu pops into his mind out of the blue). He plans to handwrite his close friends each a sincere apology letter before that day comes, but the letters don’t necessarily have to explain his disappearance. They should be able to figure _something_ out by this point – as long as Mingyu is still alive, they could get some clues out of his mouth, which shouldn’t be too hard in the first place because Mingyu isn’t particularly the best at hiding his feelings.

The only contacts he still keeps with the world are with his parents – he doesn’t want them to worry too much, especially from a distance – and his clients. He calls his parents using public phones, which, to his surprise, still exist nowadays. He makes up a whole excuse about dropping his phone in the toilet and not wanting to get a new one until the newest model comes out in September, and he successfully covers the situation up with it. He doesn’t tell them about his breakup, either. He doesn’t want to bear the weight of their kind-hearted worries on top of his own emotions, at least not yet. And Mingyu probably wouldn’t be desperate enough to call his parents since he speaks little to no Mandarin, so he doesn’t mind exposing his location to them.

Minghao also keeps his business email active for the clients. He works pretty much independently and no one in his or Mingyu’s friend circle knows his business contact. Plus, he needs an income to support himself, especially now he doesn’t have another person to split the rent with. He has a steady collaboration going with an auction-gallery, but they can only take – assuming that Minghao can make – so many large canvas pieces a year. So Minghao restarts what he hasn’t been doing for years: commissioned work. It’s not his favorite type of work as commission limits his artistic creativity and freedom, but since the scales of these works are generally smaller, he works faster and earns his bread more efficiently. 

Minghao is cautious about leaving digital footprints, so he asks the gallery to spread the news privately. Scrolling through his inbox, he sees a handful of regular appreciators of his works at the gallery have already put in requests. He knows he should get his hands onto work if he doesn’t want to run out of cash for next month’s rent, and replying to the emails to accept the requests one by one soothes his worries. 

Just as he pulls the easel and paint cans into the small living room and ties the strings of the painting apron behind his back, the doorbell rings. Minghao walks over to open the door and picks up his wallet on the way, preparing to pay for his dinner (yes, he has to return to the “caveman” style of living since he can no longer pay with his phone).

“Sorry, gimme a sec...” he opens the door with his elbow, two hands busy searching in the wallet. “I just need to find a–”

“ _Seo Myungho_ , really? You hate me that much that you are going to shut me up with money?”

Minghao’s head darts up at the familiar voice.

_Shit. He’s here._

Even though Minghao is good at keeping thoughts that make himself anxious away, he has to admit that he has been expecting Mingyu to suddenly show up one day, demanding an explanation, or a formal goodbye. But he just didn’t expect the reunion to be this early.

His mind blanks out, but his reflexes stay loyal. He shuts the door in the split of a second, but Mingyu is faster at sticking one foot in the door.

“How did you find here?” Minghao can hear his own voice shaking.

“If you can get in and out of my life as you please without explaining, why can’t I do the same to yours?” The expression on Mingyu’s face is cold. Minghao knows he is mad, but he has never seen anything like this on his ex-boyfriend’s face to tell exactly how angry he is or to think of a way to appease that anger. “Open the door. We need to talk.”

_Fuck it. If I can’t make him calm down, I’m not even gonna try._ “I don’t want to talk,” Minghao adds more strength to his push on the door. “I thought I made it clear for you already. Mingyu, we are over.”

Countering the pressure from the opposite side, Mingyu also pushes harder, and he wins the competition of strength thanks to his weight training. 

The door crashes, the next thing Minghao knows he is shoved against the thin wall by the taller man. The shoes fall from the rack in the commotion and he almost trips over them, but Mingyu catches him and pins both of his wrists so he doesn’t. 

“Let go of my hands.” Minghao tries to sound as calm as he possibly can. He doesn’t want to deal with the neighbors’ complaints about the noise that they are making nor let them see him fighting Mingyu from the open door. 

“I won’t until you agree to talk.” Mingyu stares straight into Minghao’s eyes. 

Minghao stares back at him. He doesn’t know what his own eyes look like – probably tired since he hasn’t been able to sleep soundly for weeks – but he can tell that underneath the sheen of fury, there is an ocean of sorrow in Mingyu’s eyes. The sight of Mingyu’s genuine emotions without any adornment sends electric shocks into Minghao’s veins, and the numbing sensation prompts him to move away from Mingyu’s gaze. He struggles feebly to free himself only to feel the hold on him gets tighter. This stubbornness is what Minghao hates the most about Mingyu, along with that his own physical disadvantage. Minghao doesn’t like the feeling of being controlled. 

He debates with himself in silence and finally gives in with a sigh almost inaudible. “Fine. Close the door. ”

↣ ⧪ ↢

Minghao still offers tea to his unwelcome guest despite the tension hanging in the air, and Mingyu doesn’t refuse the act of kindness. The two, each holding a plain offwhite mug, sit at the two ends of the only couch in the living room. Minghao’s art supplies lay on the ground. 

“So you left your phone but packed all of your art supplies,” Mingyu speaks.

Minghao almost chokes on his jasmine tea. “... Yeah.”

“Why?”

They aren’t facing each other, but Minghao can sense in his peripherals that Mingyu has turned to directly look at him. The left side of his body feels hot under Mingyu’s gaze, and Minghao feels pressured to tell the truth. He shuffles uncomfortably and fights it: “There really isn’t a reason. I just forgot it on the nightstand and didn’t want to go back to get it.”

“Wrong. You want to avoid being in contact with me so you left the phone there on purpose, didn’t you?”

_Here it goes again_. Every time they get into a fight, Mingyu always manages to tear down, within seconds, those delicate yet insignificant lies that could’ve smoothed out the arguments. 

Minghao gets a little flustered finding the pattern annoyingly familiar. “If you knew the answer so well, why did you even bother asking?” 

“Then why can’t _you_ just fucking be honest? So I don’t have to spend all the fucking time guessing what’s going on in your head?”

“Geez, stop swearing so much and chill out!” 

“I won’t chill the fuck out!” Mingyu slams his mug onto the wooden coffee table and grabs Minghao by the shoulder. “I’m not letting this be over until you tell me why you left!”

Minghao feels his heartbeat quickens through the pain on his shoulder. Hundreds of reasons flash through his mind at the question. 

The fight that started all this was, in fact, like the others, extremely insignificant. It was about the dishes piling up in the sink – Minghao was the one spending most of the time in the apartment, so he was supposed to do the cleaning during the week. And he didn’t, which pissed Mingyu off. Yet this time, Minghao felt like he has had enough. 

He has had enough of Mingyu coming home from work whining about whatever that was irrelevant to his life, enough of Mingyu complaining about what he had unintentionally done wrong and not letting it pass, enough of pushing himself to explain his emotions because Mingyu can’t read the atmosphere, enough of being stuck in the apartment painting while Mingyu travels all the time as a videography director for a big company, enough of everything. 

He is tired of this relationship, a relationship that he had traded off his own career to keep. Though he had never mentioned it to Mingyu, whenever they got into a fight, Minghao quietly thought to himself if it would have been better if he had accepted the job offer as an artistic director in Jeju instead of staying in Seoul as a freelancer. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Mingyu, loves Mingyu enough to give up a salary that more than doubled the current one just because he doesn’t want his clingy, love-starved boyfriend to suffer from a long-distance relationship. But deep down, Minghao still holds a fleck of regret. What if he did accept the job? Yes, they do have to be in a long-distance relationship, but maybe just for a year or two, then Minghao can apply to be moved back to a branch in Seoul. Or Mingyu can find another job in Jeju. After all, why does _he_ have to be the one compromising? 

So when Mingyu asked why the dirty dishes were stacked up in the sink for the entirety of the three days that he was away, Minghao didn’t tell Mingyu that it was because he had received a phone call from his mom on the first day, begging him to fly home to China because his dad was in the hospital. 

His dad had always been a healthy man, so even though he is in the early sixties, it is difficult for Minghao to envision him being susceptible to any serious illness. The news hit him with the sudden realization that his parents, who used to be omnipotent in his eyes, are aging. 

Thus on top of the guilt of not being able to be by his sick father’s and his worrying mother’s side, Minghao was burdened with an ever so heavy sense of responsibility. All of a sudden, Minghao felt ashamed of his selfishness. He was the one who insisted on moving to Korea to explore his artistic career. He was also the one who found himself a boyfriend and deprived his parents of their lifelong dream of becoming grandparents. Though they were hesitant about Minghao’s decisions at first, they never spoke a word of objection as long as these were something Minghao truly wanted to do. 

Minghao reprimanded himself for always taking his parents’ tolerance for granted and always forgetting to include them as a part of his own decision-making. _Why, I must have been a horrible son._ Minghao mocked himself. Even if his parents didn’t think so, their family friends and relatives must have regarded him as one. 

Minghao had never been good at expressing his feelings through words, let alone in a foreign language that he has not yet mastered. The tsunami of emotions crushed mercilessly on him, leaving him speechless three weeks ago at the blame and again today at Mingyu’s interrogation.

He feels the grip on his shoulder loosens at his silence, encouraging the jolting agitation underneath his skin. He takes it as a sign, slaps off Mingyu’s hand, and turns to face him directly. 

“You want an explanation? Fine. I will tell you why,” Minghao almost laughs out loud. He can already see the shock on Mingyu’s face at his sudden change of attitude. “Because I realized how stupid it was. All of it. I am, you are, the whole entire relationship was stupid. ”

“What?”

“Yep. You heard me right,” tea spills out and splashes onto Minghao’s pants as he smashes the mug onto the coffee table. “We were too young. Childish, quick to decisions. It's time to wake up, _Kim Mingyu_. We just aren’t the best fit, we never were.”

At the sound of his name, anger disappears from Mingyu’s face. A dim, dangerous expression takes its place. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking to you?” Minghao scoffs. 

Mingyu stands up, his elongated shadow casting on where Minghao sits.

“What? You are gonna beat me up for it now?” Minghao rolls up his sleeves, preparing to get up and punch Mingyu in the face if the other dares to start a fight. “You were the one who asked for a reason.”

Before Minghao can react, Mingyu bends down, catches him by the wrists, and locks his thighs by kneeling one leg on it.

“What the fu–” 

Minghao’s lips are sealed by Mingyu’s in the middle of his defenseless curse. Dry, hot, messy, explosive, and all too familiar. 

Irritated, Minghao kicks Mingyu in the stomach with his free leg, but Mingyu doesn’t break off from the kiss. The groan of pain blends into their suppressed breaths, and he bites Minghao’s bottom lip with his canine tooth as an act of revenge. Minghao’s pursed lips crack open at the sting, and Mingyu takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Minghao’s sweet, jasmine-fragrance-filled mouth and traces the sharp outline of every tooth. 

Annoyance makes Minghao want to break all of Mingyu’s ribs – he probably can if he tries hard enough – but strengths are leaving his limbs too quickly under the nostalgic sensation on the lips. The spilled tea has conquered not only a larger territory on his own pants but also a good share of Mingyu’s. The wet fabric amplifies warmth coming from the burning skin underneath, blurring out all of the swear words that he has prepared to say. 

_The kiss is too long_. Minghao opens his mouth wider trying to catch some air but only to encourage Mingyu to switch out a hand to press onto the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Minghao starts to see stars in front of his eyes and lets his limbs melt into a pile of dripping honey. _Fuck,_ _I am going to lose to this man again._ He thinks defeatedly before closing his eyes.

And he does. 

↣ ⧪ ↢

Minghao doesn’t remember clearly how he has stumbled into the bedroom in Mingyu’s arms, nor does he remember how they fell kissing, then rolled onto bed together.

His vision is practically nonexistent as the sun had gone down a while ago, and they didn’t bother to turn on the light. Plus, the watery fog forming in the corners of his eyes would have blurred out anything he could have seen anyways. 

Minghao bites deeper into his kiss-swollen bottom lip as Mingyu pounds incessantly so he doesn’t make any sounds, but his warm, soft insides betray him. It clings onto Mingyu’s cock each time it’s pulled out to prepare for the next thrust. The remnant of his rationality despises how his body misses Mingyu, but the other 95% of him, eaten up by the drought of physical contact, screams for more, more, and _more_. 

Mingyu’s touch feels so natural; when he lays hands on Minghao’s cold, shivering spine, Minghao’s back arcs, seeking the temperature that himself lacks. Mingyu’s hand pushes down demandingly while his cock grazes past his prostate, forcing Minghao to shudder and bend in the opposite direction. Minghao’s mind has become a swirl of nothingness mixed with sweetness and thirst, for Mingyu has gifted him with what he has been desperately dreaming for days. He finally admits; he misses Mingyu. He misses Mingyu so badly that every inch of him, skin to blood to bones, is trembling in arousal at Mingyu’s touch. 

Mingyu reaches out another hand to grab Minghao’s neck from the front. Fingers caressing his Adam's apple, Mingyu suddenly lifts Minghao’s upper body up. He likes to see the slender lines of his boyfriend’s body curve into the shape of a _C_ in bed. It is an unexplainable obsession: there is a certain magic to Minghao’s body – maybe it’s the unearthly flexibility of it – that makes Mingyu keep wanting to explore its possibilities. 

Minghao lets go of his lips and throws back his head, yearning for air as Mingyu’s clutch tightens around his neck. Moans leak out and his hip tenses, Mingyu curses and lets out a low growl. He moves both hands onto Minghao’s shoulders, pulls him close so Minghao’s back is pressing against his chest and picks up his pace. 

Voice cracked and sentences broken, Minghao cries out his lover’s name. His fingers clench on the bedsheet in place of Mingyu. He wants to hug him, wants to feel his warmth for another moment. Not just from the back, but to immerse his whole being in the warmth of Kim Mingyu. Mingyu hears him and spins his body to face him without pulling out, which almost makes Minghao scream out of the overstimulation. 

“Are you almost there, baby?” Mingyu whispers under heavy breaths, pumping deeper and harder each time into Minghao. 

“Yes, yes, please,” Minghao hears his own voice trips over his tongue and falls into the darkness. “I’m so close. Please, Mingyu, harder, _I want you_ –”

Mingyu hugs him tighter as if he is going to hold Minghao right by his heart. With a few more thrusts all the way to Minghao’s deepest, softest spot, both of them lose it at once. 

It takes a while for the panting to die down, and they fall back into silence. The only sound echoing in the apartment is their quiet breathing, and from the outside, the ceaseless cicadas and the distant laughter of children. 

Minghao is still hunched over Mingyu’s shoulders, where he had collapsed onto at his climax. He doesn’t want to move – it almost feels like once he moves, the fragile intimacy that they had just built will evaporate into the air again. He doesn’t even want to talk, to break the silence of peace. He is afraid of rage taking charge of him again, making him start another meaningless fight. 

“I’m cold,” Mingyu finally muffles into Minghao’s mullet after sneezing when his body has cooled down. Minghao hasn’t trimmed his hair in three weeks, and it’s tickling Mingyu’s cheek. 

“Sorry,” Minghao awkwardly removes himself from Mingyu. _Shit Xu Minghao, you might as well become a Koala at this point._

“Are you… going to clean up?” 

“I will in a bit. You can use the bathroom – it’s by your left-hand side. ”

“Thanks.”

Mingyu tugs his clothes, all wrinkled up in a pile, under one arm, and leaves the bedroom. Minghao is left lying on the bed, alone. 

_What is this, then?_ Wrapping himself in the comforter, Minghao stares at the ceiling as he slowly regains his vision. _Breakup sex? Is this going to be a casual thing from now on? What are they now? Exes who have sex? Friends who hook up? Or does it mean they are good again? No, no, that would be too hasty._

The water stops running, and Mingyu emerges from the doorway. He is backlit by the dim lamp in the living room, so Minghao can’t quite see his features. 

“I have a question.” He says tentatively. 

_I have a question too,_ Minghao replies silently. _Many questions, in fact._ But he only waits for Mingyu to continue. 

“Did you really mean it?” 

Minghao freezes for a second. He knows what Mingyu is asking, and the answer is no. He was carried away by the flurry of Mingyu’s sudden appearance and interrogations that he let emotions run ahead of his brain to say things that he didn’t mean. He wants to apologize, but his unbending personality has glued his tongue to his teeth so that he cannot make a sound. 

“Never mind, don’t answer me,” Mingyu frets and runs his fingers through his hair, stopping Minghao, who just inhaled deeply to begin his sentence, from confessing the truth. He pulls away from the doorframe. The lean shadow tamely follows the motions of the owner.

“I brought your phone and charger. I’ll leave them on the dining table,” Mingyu’s voice becomes more and more distant as he walks toward the entrance. “Don’t worry, I won’t text or call. And I won’t come here to disturb you again. I won’t tell others you are here either unless you want me to.”

_Can I call you when I miss you?_ A voice in Minghao’s chest utters timidly. 

“Your dinner is here, by the way. I will leave it on the table too,” says Mingyu with the sounds of plastic bag shuffling. “A note says to remember to pay for it on their website.”

“Thanks.”

And that is the last thing Minghao says to Mingyu before he hears the door click. 


	2. toast to our shimmering youth

_Recommended bgm: I want to be a pillow - J_ust_

↣ ⧪ ↢

“Myungho-ssi, are you free later today?” 

Minghao moved his eyes off of the large black-and-white painting on the wall and tilted his head, showing his interest in what was following the question. 

“Um… I just wanted to know if, umm,” Mingyu stuttered and almost dropped his camera lens from the bag. Minghao gasped, but gladly Mingyu caught it. He smiled shyly. “I wanted to know if you would take an interest in having dinner together. ”

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “For?”

“A continuation of friendship… maybe?”

Today was the last day of filming for the promotion project of the gallery, and Minghao probably wouldn’t see Mingyu again despite all the editing meetings that Mingyu still had to attend. Minghao didn’t need to come in if there weren’t any filming. 

Minghao had enjoyed Mingyu’s presence in the past week that they had worked together. He was a wonderful videographer – Minghao had seen his works before shooting had started, and Minghao had imagined him to be an arrogant artist (a little bit like himself, he would admit) who was proud of his work and frowned upon things that didn't work out the way he wanted. 

But Mingyu wasn’t like that _at all_. He was friendly and polite to everyone, from the people in his own production team to the people he filmed, and even to the people who opened the door for him. He was so down-to-earth that if not with his stunning visual and confident aura, Minghao might have mistaken him with an intern, considering his never-lacking energy and occasional clumsiness. 

Minghao liked the way Mingyu directed and filmed, it made him feel comfortable in front of the camera. He was worried that the promotion video might be too pretentious and inauthentic compared to the usual atmosphere of the gallery, but the gentleness in Mingyu’s way of giving instructions and suggestions made everything flow naturally. Minghao liked Mingyu’s way of treating people around him, and consequently, him as a person. 

“That doesn’t sound bad to me,” Minghao smiled. 

Mingyu’s eyes shined with excitement at the response. “Are you okay with seafood? I know a restaurant – they have great city views at night, and really good wine, too. ”

Minghao would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by the recommendation. “Seems like you have done some research.” _on me._

“Of course!” Mingyu didn’t catch the hidden meaning and answered with his usual confidence. “I bet you will like it.”

“You’ve been planning on this, then?” Minghao raised the tone at the end of his sentence to tease.

Mingyu visibly blushed and looked away. He gathered his stuff quickly, attempting to divert the attention by changing the topic. “Did you drive here?”

Minghao giggled at his restlessness. “Yeah, but since you said they have good wine, I might just leave the car here and enjoy myself some alcohol tonight. You drive, right?”

Mingyu obviously wasn’t expecting to ride with Minghao on their first time out together, but he readily accepted it. “Sure, I can drink a little less and drive you home.”

“That’s so nice of you, Mingyu-ssi,” Minghao patted him on the back as they walked out of the door. He waved goodbye to the receptionists. “Then I will shamelessly take the offer and pretend like it wasn’t me who suggested it. ”

“Just call me Mingyu,” Mingyu winked as he opened the door to the front seat for Minghao.

“Thanks, _Mingyu_ ,” Minghao almost bit his tongue when he saw the wink. He had a terrible instinct that he was going to fall for whatever this attractive man had planned (and potentially this man entirely, he was afraid). 

By the time they walked out of the elevator and finally arrived at the restaurant, the sky had already darkened and the cityscape had lit up. The waitress leading them to a reserved seat by the french window confirmed Minghao’s instincts. He wondered as they read the menus, what would Mingyu do if he had turned down the invitation? So he asked when bread was served. 

“I probably still would’ve come,” Mingyu dipped a piece in garlic oil and took a generous bite, “I mean, I really like this restaurant. Admittedly it would’ve been a lot more miserable-looking though if I booked for two and showed up alone.”

Minghao studied his cheeks, all puffed with bread, and was awestruck at how Mingyu was talking when his mouth was filled with food. “How are you making the bread look so delicious just by eating it?”

“Try it! It’s actually really good.”

So like waves of a running stream their conversation progressed, nothing significant, but interesting enough for it to keep going. They talked and exchanged facts about each other, things like Minghao was actually the younger of the two, Mingyu was a wonderful cook, and they both did not have a favorite color but only temporary preferences. Minghao’s current favorite was yellow, which coincidentally (or it might not have been a coincidence, who knows) was also Mingyu’s current favorite. 

When Minghao went on to talk about his worst childhood memory of falling from a tree because a branch that he clung onto snapped, Mingyu kept grinning even though Minghao hadn’t even gotten to the funny part of the story yet. 

“What are you smiling at?” Minghao finally stopped and asked. 

Mingyu only realized what he was doing then and dropped the corners of his mouth almost instantly. “Nothing, nothing.”

“That’s very suspicious, you know.”

Mingyu looked down at the napkin on his lap and scratched his head. “Sorry… but please don’t be mad at me if I tell you why.”

“What?”

“I kept getting distracted from the story… ” He pouted, a small talking habit that Minghao had come to pick up on. “I’m really trying, but it’s just… The way you keep messing up the prepositions is… distracting… ”

Minghao didn’t know if he should be offended, but he did anyway. “Well, sorry that I’m speaking in a foreign language that I only studied for three years?”

Mingyu panicked at Minghao’s reaction and, of course, almost knocked over his wine glass waving his hands. “No, no! That’s not what I mean! I meant that… ” 

As if it would cost a lot of courage to say it, Mingyu took a deep breath and buried his head. “... it’s very cute. I… I don’t know, it’s just that you look quite cold and intimidating when you don’t talk, so I’ve always thought you are much older. But the way you just told the story made you sound like... a dongsaeng that you are.”

Minghao blushed. Yes, he was still a little upset about being called out on his language abilities, but did Mingyu just blurted out that he thought he was cute? 

Mingyu mistook Minghao’s silence as he was still angry, so he added nervously: “I really mean it! I’m so sorry that it sounded condescending, in no way did I think of your Korean like that.”

The “I really mean it” made Minghao’s face burn even hotter in the candlelight. “No, no. It’s okay.”

“I am sorry,” Mingyu apologized again, peeking behind his bangs to see Minghao’s expression. He was relieved when Minghao took another sip of wine. He asked tentatively: “So… do you want to continue the story?”

“You’ll be able to focus on the story this time?” 

“I will, I will! I promise.”

↣ ⧪ ↢

“Another shot of the same ones please,” Minghao raises his glass at the bartender. The guy nods as an acknowledgment, and Minghao’s head dips. 

One big issue with homosexuality is that there is only a very fine line between friendship and what’s beyond. It’s almost upon the suspect to define the ambiguity – _he just put his hand around my waist, that’s it, dude. It’s a bro thing, don’t panic._

_Yeah, bro thing._ Minghao gulps down some more vodka and laughs at himself. He usually dislikes liquor; the vulgar smell makes him nauseous. But sometimes it is the best solution to problems – in this case, kicking the bothering image that he only had a glimpse of out of his mind. 

It’s been another three weeks since the hot, messy accident. Minghao had tried to not think too much about it, but when he isn’t actively occupied, his mind drifts back to the unanswered questions. He still hasn’t the slightest clue from Mingyu of what they are now, and he doesn’t feel as the one to give a definition. 

Plus, the repossession of his phone serves as a constant reminder of Mingyu’s visit. Minghao intended to leave it untouched, but thanks to Mingyu, being the considerate person that he is, the phone was fully charged and turned on, and people figured out he is still alive. Notifications for Junhui’s and Soonyong’s messages didn’t seem like they would ever stop popping until he replied, so Minghao didn’t really have a choice. Thus, the return of social media. 

Minghao groaned as he scrolled past Mingyu’s post. Both men in the picture were laughing, and the guy had his two hands on Mingyu’s shoulders. His forehead was almost touching Mingyu’s temple. _Cheers to finding the lost smiles,_ it captioned. 

Minghao didn’t know how to better define ambiguity than that. He threw his phone into the carpet (he didn’t want to pay for another phone, not yet) and covered his eyes with the now empty hands. 

He hasn’t blocked Mingyu on any social media. After all, blocking all his contacts after he had kindly brought over the phone and promised not to disturb ever again? Come on, that would be a dick move. 

But then the payback is this, seeing Mingyu celebrating whatever the fuck “finding the lost smiles” is with a dude that he doesn’t recognize in a bar. Minghao wonders if returning the phone is another scheme of Mingyu’s, just to make it easier to show-off when he moves on. 

Minghao’s most natural reaction is to pretend like it isn’t a big deal and go back to work. But he can no longer ignore the fact that the image was bothering him after he messed up three canvases consecutively. He looked at the clock and decided he had already worked enough for a day, then packed his phone, keys, wallet, and waved for a taxi. If he can’t focus on work right now, he might as well just focus on the overflowing emotions; that way he will have a clear mind to pick up painting tomorrow. 

And that’s basically how he has gotten so drunk in the short span of two hours. He is still sober enough to pay his own bills, but as soon as he walks out of the bar, summer nights’ heatwaves hit him hard and deprive him of the remaining clarity in his head. He gets in a cab, blurts out an address, and passes out in the back seat. 

↣ ⧪ ↢

“Here, that’s my apartment,” Minghao gestured at the tall building on the right side of the next block. “Just pull over here and I can hop off.”

“Oh it doesn’t matter,” Mingyu shook him off, “I’ve already driven so far. I think I can escort you to the main entrance, _sir._ ”

Minghao laughed at the sarcastic use of the honorific. He had gotten a little lightheaded from wine – Mingyu didn’t lie when he said they had good wine at the restaurant. Bordeaux's left bank is indeed above _good_. 

Mingyu slowed down the car in front of the red light. 

“Did you have fun today?” He asked, one arm resting on the compartment between seats. 

“Yes, I did,” Minghao giggled. He was really enjoying the airy atmosphere. “Thank you, Mingyu. For all of this.”

Mingyu smirked. It was an expression showing that he was proud of himself. “Do you think we can go to another dinner like this?”

“Oh, so you want this to be a routine now?” Minghao tilted his head to one side and turned to Mingyu, teasing him. “You are quite direct, mister, and I don’t dislike that about you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

“As you please,” amused, Minghao nodded, and his eyes curved into hanging crescents.

The second the traffic light turned green, Mingyu’s eyes latched onto Minghao’s face that wore a faint pink from alcohol, and he forgot to breathe. He reached out a hand and swept aside Minghao’s draping bangs, tucking it behind his ear. 

Minghao’s eyes widened, but he didn’t flinch. So Mingyu didn’t pull back his hand. The padding of his thumb caressed Minghao’s shaved sideburn, so gently that even time was slowed down. 

There were no other cars. The entire street had fallen asleep under the silver moonshine. It was just the two of them, in a car, in front of a green light that no one was paying attention to. 

_May I?_ Mingyu mouthed as he leaned in closer. 

Minghao closed his eyes, and his lashes fluttered. _How weird_ , he thought, _isn’t heartbeat supposed to quicken at moments like this? Why is it slowing down? Isn’t this too natural?_

And then their lips touched, so softly, like a feather landing on a tranquil lake, yet it wasn’t at all bland. Freshly poured champagne with frizzling bubbles, watermelon-flavored popping candies exploding on the tip of the tongue, the kiss was sour and sweet. 

When they pulled away from each other, Minghao could still feel Mingyu’s warm breath hovering above his skin. He thought he was going to burn. 

Neither of them talked as Mingyu drove past the block and stopped in front of the apartment building. 

“Good night,” Minghao eventually said before closing the car door. He didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t ruin the lingering sweetness. 

“Good night,” Bent over the steering wheel, Mingyu rolled down the windows and smiled at him. “I’ll watch you go in.”

Now even the summer night breezes wouldn’t be able to cool him down. “Okay.” 

Standing between the emotionless skyscrapers, Minghao saw stars in Seoul for the first time. In the pitch-black night sky, in the eyes of the man that he began to adore. 

↣ ⧪ ↢

Minghao feels a strong urge to vomit as he gets out of the cab. He has no idea why the driver was speeding so much at 1 o’clock at night – it’s not like there was anyone chasing after them, if there really was then speeding wouldn’t help much. He stumbles to hold himself up on a pillar and takes a few deep breaths trying to suppress the nauseousness. In his dizziness, Minghao realizes that he had accidentally given the wrong address – he is standing in front of his old apartment, the apartment where he used to live in, with Mingyu.

_Well, shit._ He scolds himself. _Xu Minghao you smart fuck, now get yourself a Uber driver, in a still-developing suburban neighborhood at 1 o’clock in the morning, who is willing to drive you across Seoul to where your actual apartment is._

He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, pulls out his phone, and opens the Uber app. It’s at least worth a try. 

“Myungho?” _And –_ here comes the voice that he wants to hear the least at this moment. Minghao twitches.

_Why, just why._ He groans inside and stares deadly at the ground, searching for a crack wide enough for him to disappear into. Or a rock that he can hit his head with (or the owner of the voice’s head, at least one of them has to go tonight). Showing up in front of your ex’s apartment at dawn, drunk, and your ex actually sees you. How desperately pitiful and embarrassing. 

“Myungho, is it you?” Not getting a response, Mingyu takes a few steps closer and pushes his specs to see clearer. He is in his grey pajama set with his hair all puffed up; he was obviously too lazy to blow dry it properly in this hot weather. 

“Uh, hi,” _my ass._ Minghao wants to stomp on his own foot for the awkwardness. But the nauseousness creeps back upon him, and he has to bend down to stop himself from vomiting. Not out in public in front of his ex, no no no. He will never forgive himself if he does.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu drops whatever was in his hands and rushes over. “Holy shit you stink, how much did you drink?!”

Minghao really wants to tell him to fuck off and just mind his own business, but he knows if he attempts to talk right now, both his and Mingyu’s clothes will not stay clean for another second. So he shakes his head and waves his hand.

“Stop lying. Your stomach can’t take hard liquor,” Mingyu carries one of Minghao’s arms over his own shoulder. “Don’t fight me right now, at least come up to just throw up. You will feel better.”

Minghao would love to kick him in the shins and runoff, but it has taken most of his strength to hold in the incessant gags so he lets Mingyu carry him into the elevator. 

“Hold on, we are almost there,” Mingyu strokes Minghao’s back soothingly as the gags get more frequent with each floor the elevator climbs. Minghao’s face is as white as paper. 

They finally get off on the 8th floor, and Mingyu unlocks the door with the fastest human speed possible. “Go, go, go! You know where the bathroom is.”

Of course Minghao knows where the bathroom is – _he had lived here for three years for goodness’ sake._ But there is no time to talk back. Minghao reaches the toilet, still sane enough to remember closing the door, and finally lets his stomach flip upside down. 

When he is done emptying all of the liquor and the pumpkin soup – the only thing he ate all day – he feels as if bones are pulled out from his body and he has nothing to support himself up with. But he isn’t going to just lie on the bathroom floor at his ex’s place, so holding the rim of the toilet, he staggers to his feet. 

There is a constant buzzing ringing in his skull. Minghao blinks hard trying to get rid of it while he drags himself to the sink to rinse his mouth. He opens the mirror and reaches for his toothbrush on the second shelf habitually, realizing right away that he doesn’t live here anymore. 

To his surprise, however, a mint green toothbrush sits quietly in the cup, which has a cartoon frog drawn onto the outside. The quarter tube of toothpaste that never got used up, too. Everything is there, in the right place, just as they were. Except for the yellow Shiba Inu cup right by it now has a new tube of toothpaste in it. 

Minghao stands there numbly, mind clearer, but still dull from the overconsumption of alcohol, not knowing what to feel. 

Should he be glad that Mingyu hasn’t thrown away his stuff? Does that mean Mingyu hasn’t moved on yet? _Well, it could just be the stuff in the bathroom. Even if he hasn’t thrown away any of that stuff, it could be because Mingyu is too busy or too lazy – no, he would never be too lazy for that. He is a cleaning freak. But yes – maybe he is just too busy._

Minghao ruffles his hair in an attempt to stop the muddled thoughts and proceeds to take the cup off the shelf. _Just don’t think about it._

“Myungho-ya,” Mingyu knocks on the bathroom door. Minghao startles. “Come out whenever you are done; I fixed some food. I have to run down quickly – I just remembered I dropped trash by the gate and I need to take it out.”

Minghao makes a noise, indicating that he has heard him. 

The door clicks behind Mingyu, and a few minutes later, Minghao finishes in the bathroom. He strolls to the dining table, where a bowl of warm corn porridge is placed. The steaming porridge is held in his favorite blue porcelain bowl. _Of course. Why wouldn’t the bowl still be here?_

Minghao pulls out a chair to sit. Across from him is Mingyu’s computer, and to his right is Red Aglaonema the Second (Red Aglaonema the First passed away in the first year of their relationship, if you still remember from the previous chapter), leafier than ever, flaunting how much care it has gotten over the past few weeks. 

He swallows a spoonful. Mingyu had always made him porridge, for he has a very weak digestive system, especially since the time he got hospitalized for stomach ulcers. In order for him to not get bored of the flavor, Mingyu gathered all sorts of porridge recipes, who knows from where. Some tasted really good, and some were just fine. He even modified the ones that Minghao refused to eat after the first try (some of them still got abandoned because Minghao just simply could not stand the ingredients). Minghao almost forgets what an indulgence it was to be fed by a good chef like Mingyu. 

“It tastes okay?” Mingyu returns and locks the door behind him. “I made it in a hurry so it might be a little bit too salty for your taste.”

Minghao shakes his head. “It’s good. Sorry for bothering you.”

Mingyu walks into the kitchen to wash his hands. “It’s not bothering, really. I need to make myself some food anyways – I have to work late to finish editing for a new project.”

“Still, thank you,” Minghao’s head dips as Mingyu sits down behind his computer. It annoys him that he is still uncomfortable looking at Mingyu directly in the eye. “I’ll be going after this so you can work.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Mingyu waves him off. “I don’t think you can get an Uber at this hour, plus you will probably be carsick again. Just stay here tonight – I can take the couch.”

Minghao pauses at the offer. Mingyu is right, plus there really is no point in running away after all this. 

“It’s okay, I will sleep on the couch,” after all, he is a guest to this place now. 

Mingyu doesn’t fight him for it. “Fine. I’m gonna be working here though, the lights won’t be a problem for you?”

Minghao nods. 

“Feel free to get some comfy clothes too if you need it,” Mingyu takes off his glasses to wipe them on his pajama shirt, and puts them back on to focus on the computer screen. His mouse starts clicking. 

Minghao takes the empty bowl to the kitchen sink and goes to the main bedroom after thanking him. He indeed feels like a guest, but one that has a whole closet to himself in the host’s house. It’s odd, but not a bad feeling.

He changes into a silk robe, gets himself a heavy blanket, and returns to the living room. With all the lamps turned off, there is only a dim, yellow glow from the doorway leading to the dining area. 

_So he really isn’t going to ask anything about why I’m here, is he?_ Minghao wonders as he lays down on the couch. It’s not too uncomfortable – he used to take naps here a lot, by the window under the warm, afternoon sun. _Does he not care? Or has he been expecting this to happen? It’s probably better that he hasn’t asked anything, but why does everything that shouldn’t be happening feel so… right?_

Minghao’s thoughts don’t drift far, though, as drowsiness quickly devours him. So he doesn’t catch Mingyu peeking in, making sure he has fallen asleep, and tiptoeing to pull the curtains closed for him.

“Good night, ” and Mingyu whispers, with a gentle curve on his lips that even himself doesn’t notice.


	3. take my hand and never regret

_Recommended bgm: Friend to Lover - Standing Egg_

↣ ⧪ ↢

It is already two when Minghao wakes up, and Mingyu has, of course, gone to work. There is a yellow post-it note stuck onto an envelope on the coffee table. He picks it up.

_Good morning (or afternoon, whenever you wake up)_

_I made some scrambled eggs and some soy milk for you, they are in the fridge. I had kimchi fried rice for breakfast myself and there are some leftovers, but you might find them too greasy. If you want some they are also in the fridge._

_The thermos cup by the note has warm honey water in it. It should be good for your hangover._

_Also, if you are patient enough, please read the letter underneath this note when you eat._

_Have a good day;)_

_~M_

Minghao looks beside his right hand; there is the white thermos cup. He hesitates briefly but decides to ignore the growl of his stomach and go on to open the letter. 

_明浩,_

_Thank you for opening this letter. You might be mocking me on the inside – or out loud – for this cliche idea, but you know how extremely bad I am at explaining things verbally. And, if I may narcissistically assume so myself, you probably have a lot of questions. I do want to answer them in person, but I know you don’t like surprises (last time was just me being impulsive and I apologize for that, but also not really, I will explain why later) so I just wanted to write down some of my thoughts so we are on the same page. I could’ve handwritten this letter, it would’ve been more formal. But it’s already 4 and I still need to get some sleep before getting up at 7:30 for work, so I typed it._

_I know you are not the type of person to just leave out of the blue. I must have done something very, very wrong for you to be that disappointed. Even though I am still not completely sure what I’ve done, I want to apologize for it. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings without knowing, and if I ever get a chance to hear a why from you, I promise I will treat it with all seriousness and never do the same again, ever. The last thing I want to do in the world is to hurt you and you know that, please always remember how much I care about you and your feelings._

_However, I do think I deserved a better goodbye than what I got, which is why I was so angry last time I went over to your place. It was very terrible of me to lose my temper and to get violent, I’m so sorry. I won’t ask for your forgiveness if you decide not to forgive me, but please at least hear me out._

_You would never be able to imagine how desperate I was, coming back home and not seeing you anywhere the first day you left. There were barely any signs – you were just gone. Like you disappeared. You didn’t even bring much stuff with you so that when I first came back, I thought you were just out taking a walk or something. But no – you still weren’t back until 8, and I called you, and your phone rang in the bedroom. And I knew I must have fucked something up, badly._

_I called Junhui, called Soonyoung, called every friend of ours, asking if you were out with them or had any idea where you were. But no, all of them were clueless. It felt like you just evaporated from my life. If not with all of our friends knowing who you are, I almost thought that you were an imaginary person that I made up for myself to be in love with. So I went into the city to look for you - the parks and gardens that you liked to stroll in, the bars and coffee shops that you usually go to, I even went to the hospital and nearby movie theatres. The gallery was closed and I ran out of ideas. I thought you went back to China, and my mind just stopped working right at that thought. I then thought about a lot of things, sitting by Han River at 3 in the morning._

_I thought about what I should do if you really went back to China and decided to never come back. Should I just move on as you were never a part of my life? But the next second I knew so perfectly well that even if I should, I wouldn’t be able to. Not even to the slightest degree._

_You filled up my life so fully – every day, I wake up to you refusing my morning cuddles, I make breakfast for both of us, we rush to see who gets to use the sink first, we pick out our outfits in front of the closet together, and when I come back from work we get dinner and take walks holding hands, watch some TV in bed after showering, then hug each other to bed. How do I simply just forget all of this, and pretend like I’ve always lived alone for the past three years? There was no way._

_But there was also no way to find you. The entire first week I was searching for you every night, and I asked all of our friends to keep an eye on you if they caught any news. I contacted the gallery but they had no idea either. I was not going to give up looking, but when it got to the second week I was so sleep deprived that I fell asleep at work. I got a warning from my boss, and she let me go home early that day just to catch up on some sleep. Now thinking back on that week, I don’t even know how I made it through._

_I knew I needed to stop acting like that, otherwise I could lose my job. So I stopped._

_It wasn’t until the third week that I got news from Wonwoo that he might have spotted an email address that looked like yours. Technically tracking IP addresses for emails aren’t his responsibilities as the IT guy at your gallery, but I made it his anyways. It was a very toxic move to track you down, I know, but I mean it should be justified, considering I almost got no sleep for two weeks._

_And that’s how I found you. I went over almost immediately. I was so overtaken by the happiness that you were still within-reach mixed with the fury of the entire situation that my mind wasn’t clear when I saw you. And_ ** _that_** _happened – I swear none of that was planned. I didn’t know what I wanted to do if I did find you, I just wanted to see you. That was it. But then when I actually saw you, I lost control, and I think that scared you. It felt like I was acting out of drunkenness even though I was fully conscious, and when it was done I was sober again and escaped. I’m really really sorry about it, and you can beat me up for it. I won’t fight back at all._

_I felt embarrassed by my own behavior. That was not something I should’ve done, even if it was motivated in the name of love. I was afraid that you would hate me for it if I attempted to explain since I promised not to disturb. Plus I assumed if you really wanted an explanation, you would probably come and ask me yourself. So I didn’t._

_But each day passed by without hearing from you, I felt more guilty about it. I hated myself for being an irresponsible fuck. And then you showed up, so magically, at the gate._

_When I was cooking for you last night (or this morning, depending on how you look at it), it felt so unreal. I thought I was just hallucinating; I thought I would never have the chance to cook for you again. But you were here, in_ **_our_ ** _apartment, like you had never left. And I even persuaded you to stay. I didn’t know how it happened, but it must be a god-given chance for me, if not us, to fix everything._

_So please, when you read this second to the last line of the letter and feel moved, even just a little, don’t leave again without a farewell. Wait for me at our home, and let’s fix whatever is wrong together._

_I love you._

_~Mingyu_

↣ ⧪ ↢

It’s almost the end of summer. The heat is still suffocating, perhaps more fiercely than usual knowing it will not last too long. 

Minghao turns off the air conditioning and opens the windows, letting the boiling summer wind blow through the living room and sweep up the chiffon curtains against his face. Mingyu would complain it’s too hot, but he likes to be surrounded by the existence of nature – even if that means to be sweating in two seconds. 

He has carefully pressed the letter, already put back into the envelope, under Mingyu’s spare camera lens on the wooden shelf so it wouldn’t be blown away by the wind. His appetite hasn’t woken up yet, so he folds up the blanket to put it back into storage in the bedroom instead of eating the belated breakfast that Mingyu had prepared for him.

The bed is a mess; Mingyu obviously either overslept his alarm or _almost_ overslept his alarm this morning and had no time making the bed. Minghao sighs. 

Only if they were still living together, this would never be an issue. He rarely has to go into the office at a certain time like Mingyu does. Holding the two corners of the duvet to spread it out flat, Minghao can’t stop himself from wondering how many times the bed had been left unmade like this since he was gone. 

It feels comforting when he picks up the pillow, the familiar smell of Mingyu’s shampoo immediately engulfs him. Invasively, almost. But along with it comes a sense of security that Minghao hasn’t been able to find for weeks, so he allows himself to childishly hug the pillow after turning around to ensure no one’s looking, despite being the only one home. 

Since Mingyu had asked him to stay, Minghao’s nerves gradually ease down at the thought of showering and changing into fresh clothes. As a return of favor (though no one asked for it), Minghao puts both his clothes and Mingyu’s piled-up laundry into the washing machine. Just as he hits the start button and the machine begins to roar and wiggle, an elongated wail breaks into the apartment.

“No––––”

“What is it?” Minghao emerges from the laundry room, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

Mingyu lays face down on the floor. His bag is thrown two feet away. “I had to park far away because the underground lot was full… I walked in the sun and was expecting cool, refreshing AC when I unlocked the door… but Myungho–––” He slowly lifts his head to look at Minghao with his watery puppy eyes as he drags on the vowel of the latter’s name. 

“Fine, fine,” Minghao can’t help but surrender at his whimper, so he steps over the spreaded limbs in the living room to close the windows. “It’ll cool down a bit, be patient.”

Mingyu rolls onto his back and whines.

“Don’t make the face at me,” Minghao crosses to pick up the bag and glances over. “ _心静自然凉_ , stay calm and you’ll cool down naturally.”

A moment of silence passes while the air conditioning starts to run. Mingyu eventually gets up to straddle. Minghao is busying himself watering the plants. 

“Thank you for staying this time.”

Minghao tenses at the comment coming from behind his back, and the transparent thread of water at the tip of the watering can breaks mid-air. He was just beginning to get comfortable around Mingyu and with this space again, and he isn’t ready for this conversation to start just yet. But what can he do? Ignore the fact that he has hurt Mingyu so deeply after reading a whole-ass letter which Mingyu’s heart and feelings were poured into? 

He sets down the watering can. His head lowers, and he doesn’t dare look at Mingyu’s expressions. He says quietly: “I’m really sorry.” 

He doesn’t expect Mingyu’s forgiveness after saying it. He did realize, after all, that his childish run-away had put Mingyu up in a very miserable place. And he indeed needs to apologize for it. 

Mingyu hums. “I’m not much better myself though. It was me who did something wrong and drove you out of here, I guess.”

Minghao hesitates, but resolves to turn around. The sun is drooping on the west end of the sky now, and the warm orange floods over his bare shoulders. “You were part of the reason, but it was, in a larger part, _me_ being a mess and not knowing what to do. I… had some problems. I probably should have been less extreme about it.”

Mingyu wants to ask what it was that halted Minghao from discussing the problem with him, but he doesn’t. “Well, isn’t this how relationships should work anyways? We both make mistakes, big or small, but in the end they all even out. You know, you made me freak out, but then I was carried away and hurt you again.”

Minghao’s gaze drifts a little uncomfortably around the room, avoiding making eye contact with the man sitting on the floor. He doesn’t know what to say. That messy sex – he still doesn’t know what to make of it. Despite logically knowing it was intruding, but perhaps because it was Mingyu, he didn’t strongly dislike it.

Another moment slips by without either of them saying anything, and Mingyu rises to his feet. “Are you still angry with me now? Or with yourself, whichever one that was bothering you.”

Minghao shakes his head. “Not really. But I haven’t come up with a solution yet.”

Mingyu nods. “You don’t have to tell me about it if you think it’s better to contemplate on your own. But would it be okay with you if I offered to just be by your side through the process?”

Minghao’s eyes widen at the suggestion. He has never thought of it as a possibility; he becomes extremely moody and stubborn when he encounters problems, not wanting to share his struggles nor let others help him out. Troublesome, as he would describe himself in that state. And who is he to set Mingyu up to deal with that 24/7?

So he peeled himself away from Mingyu’s life, thinking it would be taking the burden off of him. But he didn’t realize how immature and inconsiderate that was; it was imposing a different type of torture on Mingyu, making him watch his loved one struggle out of his reach and not being able to do anything. 

“You know how difficult I can be,” he eventually says, unsurely.

“I know,” Mingyu grins, “I’m offering this on the basis of knowing how you would act. We have lived together for three years.”

“But this time would be a little different, and I would be a little… extra hard to deal with.”

“That’s okay.”

“Even if I start screaming at you for nothing that you have done wrong?”

“Even if you start screaming at me for nothing I’ve done wrong.”

“Even if I don’t explain anything and just won’t talk for days?”

“Even if you don’t explain anything and just won’t talk for days.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Mingyu takes a step closer, determination shines in his eyes. 

“For what, Kim Mingyu?” Minghao backs up, stretching the distance between them again. He has the tendency to be cynical about things that seem too good to be true and stays alarmed even to his closest. He knows this habit hurts Mingyu all the time and hates himself for it, but he can’t help. It’s a self-protecting mechanism.

Mingyu stops so Minghao doesn’t have to back up more and hit his back against the windowsill. “If it sounds too abstract and impractical to say it’s because I love you, I can phrase it in other ways.

“It’s because after being together for three years, I know and truly appreciate who you are as a person, Myungho. Even not as your boyfriend, it hurts to see you struggle on your own. You deserve to be better taken care of and to have someone by your side when you need it – we all go through phases like this. Even if it just means to cook meals for you, to just sit with you as you let out your emotions, or to hug you to bed without saying anything. I want to be your support system.”

Minghao purses his lips. “But there isn’t anything I can give back to you.”

“That’s not true,” Mingyu shakes his head. “It’s not even about taking in each other’s negativities equally; you will never know how much comfort you bring me even when you don’t do anything. This is exactly why two people are willing to bind to each other for the rest of their lives, Myungho. Because with the right person, 1+1 is always larger than 2.”

Minghao looks down at his green-and-white-striped socks. The way Mingyu said that so calmingly makes tears gush up, and he doesn’t want to let them run down his cheeks. The coldness of the lonely nights that he spent alone in the temporary escape flashes behind his mind, and he regrets so much all of a sudden for everything he has done in the past six weeks. He forgets why he thought it would be a good idea to run away in the first place. Why would he even think about giving up Mingyu and the overflowing love that Mingyu is willing to give? He misses it when he is alone, and he misses it even more now that Mingyu is opening up his arms right in front of him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, still looking down. “I’m really sorry about everything, Mingyu.”

“Hey,” Mingyu notices teardrops gathering at the corners of his eyes and coos, “Come here. Give me a hug.”

Minghao doesn’t move. 

Mingyu sighs with a light laugh. He steps in closer to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, who is curling himself up and looking as tiny as he has ever been. Minghao quivers at the touch, but he doesn’t resist.

“Are we good again?” Mingyu asks, patting gently on Minghao’s back.

“Mmm,” Minghao makes out a nosey “yes,” face buried in Mingyu’s shoulder. 

“Can I kiss you then?”

“No,” Minghao rubs his forehead against Mingyu’s t-shirt, his arms crawling up on Mingyu’s back.

“Please?”

“No,” he sniffles.

“Pretty please?”

“...If you really want to taste my salty tears that bad.”

“Yes please, I’m lacking some quality sodium these days,” Mingyu beams and cups Minghao face. His heart melts at the sight of Minghao’s reddened eyes, and his lips brush against Minghao’s, so softly, like the first snowflake of the winter landing on the petal of the last blossoming flower, as if worrying with a little more strength, he could break something. 

Letting himself be showered with Mingyu’s kisses, Minghao closes his eyes and grips the fabric of Mingyu’s t-shirt. It might take him a long time to find an answer, but he doesn’t have to worry about that. At least not now. 

The sun is setting, and the cicadas are getting loud. And most importantly, the person Minghao loves is also loving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for finishing reading this fic! This is my first ever English fic so there might be a lot of places where I can improve, so thank you so much for bearing with me all along with these 11k words:)
> 
> This story is dedicated to gyuhao, but it is also extremely personal. It is based on my very recent breakup, and through the process of writing it, I finally faced my most deeply-buried, honest emotions and thoughts. Though I didn’t have a sweet makeup as the boys did in the end, I did build myself a new understanding of love by attempting to imagine what it would be like between the two of them. I think I have found my faith in love and relationships again writing this fic, and I truly hope it would do the same for whoever is reading it as well. Comments and kudos are appreciated<333333
> 
> Please feel free to find me on twt@machereombre or cc@mydearsilhouette! I would absolutely love to talk more about this fic!!!


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